4 Days left ; The Party

The sound of blaring music entered my ears as I focused on who appeared to be gullible enough to buy my drugs. I explained my situation to Barry and promised to help him by selling at this party, earning some money for him and some for myself.

When school resumed, Topper hosted these parties every Friday. Topper was known for throwing parties, so you'd see college Kooks and even some high schoolers from Charleston here.

At these parties, Barry's business was a household name, so I took advantage of the opportunity to come across as an ambassador, being a girl, and selling it for a higher price than Barry usually offers.

I came here to make some extra money because I was only 85 percent of the way to paying Hart. I could have spent the weekend in Charleston, but I needed to get my mind off things, so I stayed closer to home. I didn't want to make a mistake in Charleston and risk losing all of my money.

I walk around in my skintight dress, uncomfortably aware of how quickly I will make sales tonight. I wish women were regarded as human beings rather than objects. But here I was, wearing a skimpy dress and a bit of makeup, hoping to attract the right customers' attention.

I could be having a good time at this party right now. But instead, I'm here to pay off my father's debts.

I had a fight tonight that was much more valuable than the ones I usually win. The best fighter in Charleston was rumored to be my opponent. I was nervous because I'd never fought anyone outside of Kildare Island.

It was nice to see a new face, but I didn't want more people watching me and scouting the place. When Kelce arrived at the ring, I became more cautious. I'd be out in a heartbeat if I slipped up.

I knew that getting into the boxing business was critical in and of itself, but it was something I had to deal with. It took me away from the outside world on occasion, allowing me to be someone else behind a mask.

It allowed me to see the world in a different light, without anyone to judge and label me as a kook or a pogue.

I considered telling the boys about it at times. But, being selfish, a part of me wanted to have it all to myself. I know I advocate for acceptance and new beginnings in our community, but there were times when I felt like nothing would ever change.

I knew I had to try to change something, but it's difficult when everyone is against you. If people want peace, as I know they do deep down, then let go of your pride and step out to make a difference.

I'm not saying it's easy; it isn't, and it never will be. But there has to be a point in one's life when one takes initiative.

I've hit rock bottom. I've been at the bottom of the pit that I've dug for myself with all my anxieties. I've looked up into the light, hoping that someone would come along and help me out. I realized that in order to improve, we had to take that step ourselves.

There will be times when no one will be there for you. No one is going to tell you that you need to do better. To tell you to get off the couch, to be nice to your enemies, and to obey your parents when necessary. No one. That's when my entire world flipped upside down.

It was at that point that I realized everything. Money, cars, fame—whatever you want to call it—mean nothing if you don't have the right people in your life. Without the ones who are there for you through thick and thin, no matter how much money you have, those moments with each other are what matter the most.

And, yes, I know I said no one would be there for you. You just need to find the right people who will support you. It's just those times in life when you're so low that you know what you need but refuse to accept help from those who truly care about you.

That's when it feels like there's no one around. And it's true. Don't let your problems define you; instead, let them shape you. Don't just sit there and let it shape you.

Unfortunately, there are some people who have no one. But I don't think so. There will be people in your life who will want to be there for you. Because they desire to have someone in their lives who will be there for them.

Everyone desires and requires someone in their lives. A strong backbone. And you do have a strong backbone. It may take a little longer to find, but there is someone out there who will help you.

I thought I was finished after moving here and going to Kildare. I assumed that I would no longer have anyone in my life who would accept me. But I was wrong. I discovered the Pogues, and they have changed my life forever.

A poker game could be heard in the room to my left. Amateurs erupt in celebration of a victory they believe is just. I was trying to keep a low profile, knowing that some of the people here would recognize me right away.

The sight of the crowd makes me shiver slightly. I was never nervous in front of a crowd or in the presence of strangers. But being here kept me on my toes. I knew I could defend myself, but the environment around me kept me on guard.

I did everything I could to avoid entering the room where Poker was being played. I had four days left, the clock was ticking, and I was becoming increasingly anxious.

I pushed my way through crowds in search of a drink to quench my nerves. I make it to the bar and request a shot from the bartender.

I settle into a bar stool and peer into the crowd, attempting to read the atmosphere. I Examine how people hide behind their outward appearance.

I chastised myself for judging the facade that these people put on because I didn't know them personally. But why should you hide behind something you might or might not be? Simply be true to who you were created to be.

I begin with the kooks at my school, examining their demeanor to determine who would be my customer. When compared to the high school students, the college-aged Kooks took a more mature stance. I was surprised to see that, given how the older Kooks would want to make a good impression, establishing their reputation and sucking the younger ones into the reality of egoism.

I chose the ones I didn't recognize. I could raise the price because selling as a woman would be easier. As I sigh in exhaustion and prepare to walk over to my first customer, I feel a hand tap me on the shoulder.

I scowl at whoever ruined my chance of catching the college-aged Kook at the right time. I'm surprised to see Topper standing there with a beer in his hand, blue eyes staring back at me, a split second of relief washing over me.

"Kiara. That's who I thought it was. I couldn't tell ", Topper says as he raises the beer bottle to his lips and looks at me.

I watched as the slightly inebriated boy in front of me sipped another swig of beer. Topper was the host; what was he doing here? He was supposed to be out there partying with his friends, but instead he sat alone at the bar.

Topper says, as if on cue, "I'm supposed to be out there. But I couldn't bring myself to continue partying as if nothing had happened. Sarah was present at the last party I hosted." Topper says, looking me in the eyes, trying to keep maintain his composure.

I examine Topper's position in the hierarchy as a kook, as he has been labeled by others. We had something in common, not only our losses, but also our empathy for those around us. He was a lovely young man who deserved to be treated well. He didn't deserve the girls around here who only liked him because of his status or the friends he had.

"Don't feel obligated to forget about it, Topper. It's something that will stay with you forever, but don't let others take it away from you." I say, as I order another shot.

"What exactly do you mean, "forget about it"? I have to because I can't stop thinking about how I should've been a better boyfriend to her. I should have put my emotions aside and treated her the way she deserved" Topper says, guilt in his eyes, as he looks at me.

"Sarah struck a chord with you. Nobody can take that away from you. It's something you don't want to overlook. I know I want to forget about it because she would have preferred that I do so. But I know that if we continue to let our past define us in ways that Sarah or John B will not forgive, we will be disappointed." Sincerely, I say it.

"Sarah and John B popped up in both of our lives at precisely the right time. They swooped in when everyone around us was against us. They didn't stop to judge us; instead, they approached us and gave us a chance ", I tell Topper. Topper looks over at me, his eyes narrowing as he hears what I'm saying.

He sits up straight and looks at me. We lock our gazes on each other for a few moments, as if we're having a conversation. His eyes told me he understood what I was saying, but the way he squirmed under my gaze made me think he wasn't okay.

I didn't hold it against him. I'd have the same reaction. I wasn't expecting him to move on tonight, but rather to carefully consider what I told him.

A part of me wishes we could have become friends like this when I first moved here. Because of the people he hung out with, Topper was someone I looked down on. There was always something about him that made me think he didn't want to fit in. Despite this, he was making every effort to try and fit in.

I sip my beer, imagining what might happen if we actually became friends. I return my gaze to the Kook I had my eye on, surprised that he was still there.

"Go for it. Isaiah is a nice guy." Topper says, as I watch the Kook talk with his friends. I shake my head at Topper

"Oh no, I'm not here for that. I'm going to make some money tonight ", I say as I pull the drugs from my pocket.

I didn't need to hide what I was doing because Topper knew this party was the epitome of drug dealing. His house was just a drop-off point, which is why he let the college-aged Kooks party here. He wanted to carry this reputation into college.

I wanted to pass the time by continuing our conversation, but I needed money tonight. Topper nods, indicating that I may proceed with my business. "Hey, come on over to the poker game later, I'll get you the red seat," Topper offers. I think about it for a second and nod in agreement. The 'red seat' was the hot seat where you could stand and play without having everyone's attention on you.

I make my way towards the Kook, attracting the attention of his companions. As I make a beeline for the guy, I hear a low whistle. He looks me over and smirks as he meets my gaze. "Baby girl, what can I do for you?" the Kook asks, his confidence shining through.

"It depends," I flirtatiously say, "but I'm here to see what you have to offer." I say, as I open my hands and display the drugs.

"Damn. Okay, let's get right to the point. That's something I like", the Kook says, nodding his head in approval as he examines the drugs in my hand. His friends begin to swarm around me, inspecting the drugs in front of them.

"You've got some top-tier drugs there. Is there any guy I need to beat the shit out of for using a pretty face like you instead of offering it to me like a man?", the Kook says as he takes the packet and examines the white powder before returning my gaze.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is a difficult customer to please. It's unusual to come across a Kook who isn't quite like the rest of them. He gets a point for sincerity.

However, there is a disadvantage to paying a higher price. These kooks are the smartest, most experienced, and most cunning. For a brief moment, I had faith in him, but I could see through the mask he was wearing.

For some reason, a part of me was drawn to the dirty blond in front of me. His green eyes glowed in the light, turning blue as the DJ's lights flashed.

No, I'm not here for fun and games; I'm here for business. Despite the fact that I am in desperate need of a break.

I thought about what Topper said about Isaiah being a nice guy. I had to plan out the right words to say in order to entice the fish to bite.

"How much?" Isaiah asks, returning his gaze to mine.

I fought back against his green eyes, which were holding me down. To divert my attention, I quickly say, "200."

"200?" Isaiah asks as his friends begin to depart from the sum I offered. Shit. I panic and quickly change the answer to "at most."

Isaiah chuckles as he notices my concern as his friends leave. "300. Because you put forth an effort." Isaiah says, as he hands me the 300.

"That simple? I expected to be in the 150s right now." I say, as I hand him the packet. Isaiah rubs the back of his neck with a smile. "What else can I say? I'd never had a girl sell me anything before. I wouldn't want it to be the last time either ", Isaiah says, winking at me.

"And here I thought sales would be easier the next time, but now it's more difficult because you made a mistake back there. I recommend getting rid of the collar." I say this while gently smoothing out the wrinkle in his collar.

Fuck you, green eyes.

I clear my throat after my blunder and turn my gaze elsewhere. "Mistake? You made a mistake by bringing your sales to me. You're right, this could be the last time I give you a price higher than your original, but I doubt it." Green eyes says as he carefully observes me.

I squirm under his gaze, the familiarity of vulnerability overpowering me. That's not a bad thing. I just want to get rid of it. Surpress the past.

"What makes you think I'll need your business in the future?" I put it to him. I was having a good time, trying to break the mold that he was attempting to replicate, to look like the other sculpted ideals of the Kooks around us.

"You're still standing here," Green eyes points out, putting me in my place. I'm taken aback by his quickness with words, which somehow entices me to keep chipping away at his sculpture.

I snap out of this trance and begin to walk away. "I've seen you before. However, I am unable to put it together ", Isaiah says as he continues to try to read me.

"Nice try, perv. I can see right through your act. 22?Don't ruin your life with a case already, green eyes." I say, only to realize I said 'Green eyes'. I try to act as if I didn't just hear what I said, and I look him in the eyes with confidence.

"Judging is the epitome of a bad start. Don't blow up that bridge, love. 17. Actually. I used to go to Kildare, but I transferred schools." Isaiah says with a chuckle as he looks at me, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"I was mistaken. I looked into it. I would not recommend attempting to establish a reputation with that group." I'm referring to the group of kooks he was with.

Isaiah tilts his head, "Is that so? You had an experience or some shit?" Isaiah asks me, curiously.

"Actually, some of them went to Kildare. I'm surprised they're here because a few of them are on probation." I state my case.

"You know how things are. Always finding a way to blend back in", Isaiah says as he turns to look at his friends.

I'm glad I listened to Topper. Isaiah made me forget about my desire to categorize these kooks. A suppressed thought in the back of my mind that I couldn't put together was tugging at me, trying to get me to listen.

You gave up too easily.

I had spent too much time selfishly judging those around me and not enough time taking a step back to focus on what really mattered. I was having trust issues. It was difficult to trust, when everyone around you was quick to dismiss you.

Sometimes I wonder if I was perceived as someone to turn to, someone to rely on. I often fail to examine myself in the presence of others.

"Kiara, the game is about to begin," Topper says, drawing my attention away from my thoughts. Topper bro hugs Isaiah.

Topper walks me over to the poker game, where Isaiah decides to sit and watch. I take my seat in the'red zone,' ready to win big.

I cracked my knuckles with ease as I took a shot handed to me by a passing Kook.

Isaiah, who is sitting next to me, whispers in my ear, "Don't slip up."

I give him a knowing look, indicating that I knew what I was doing.

As the game progressed, making moves on amateurs began to get the best of me, and I began taking more shots because I was relaxed enough to go easy on them.

Isaiah was cautioning me not to get too drunk because I needed to concentrate on the game rather than assuming I would win because I knew what I was doing.

As the crowd gathered around the table and the party became more boisterous, I took a shot, not knowing whose shot cup I was holding, letting the stinging sensation go down my throat because I was on a roll.

Rafe's POV:

I was dancing with a girl whose gaze was fixed on mine. Her brown skin glowed in the light of the DJ's beams. We were moving in sync to the music when I noticed a crowd gathered around the Poker game.

Her hand gently pulls my face away from the crowd, and she looks at me "Don't be bothered by them. Look at me ", she says as she takes my hand in hers and twirls herself around.

My mind isn't fully present, so I do as she says and twirl her around. I was inebriated, not completely, but enough to hold me captive in the gaze of the girl in front of me. My attention was drawn away from the reality of a trance I thought I was in by the way she moved.

I felt my mind play tricks on me with mirages, sucking me in so that I had to keep going. If I didn't keep going, I'd lose it forever.

I stood there watching her as she danced freely to the beat. Deja vu-like freedom that I used to have.

She continued to draw me in, breaking me, molding me, and breaking me again. In the eyes of a believer, a repetition of hope and failure.

A bump in the road that was always going to be there. A stumbling block designed to throw me off course and get me back on track.

A roadblock that can connect with the car's wheels so that the next time you run over it, it's so etched into your wheels that you give yourself up to what truly shapes you.

I let her lead me upstairs into a room with a replica of a mirror with a reflection looking back at me, showing me the same reflection once more.

I couldn't let that reflection pass me by. I wanted to remember that moment, that emotion, that look of knowing what was best for me. I couldn't let it go. I knew that if I averted my gaze, it would be gone forever.

So I opened the door and went in, hoping to relieve the pressure of memories pounding my senses of what I once had.

Kiara's POV:

I drank a glass of water to try to flush out the alcohol and stay sober for my fight.

The adrenaline of winning, albeit easily, was pumping through my veins, getting me pumped up. I was in a good spot right now, seeing that my skill at poker was working in my favor as I was able to raise the cash stakes.

Isaiah and Topper were cheering me on as I climbed higher and higher, raising the pot.

I was relieved to be able to keep playing because I was afraid of attracting too much attention. As I saw more college-aged Kooks than fellow classmates, I declared it safe for me to play.

The Kooks in Charleston had access to spreading my reputation to Kildare, but Charleston was big with several colleges, so every time I went to a Poker game, I saw a new face.

I start to ease into the game, already ahead and winning. I wanted to see if I could add any bonuses along the way, so I kept lengthening the game.

Poker provided me with yet another way to escape reality, which I appreciated. I was in my element as we approached the finish line.

The crowd erupted as I defeated the Kook, who was rumored to be the best on Kildare Island, making me the best in both worlds.

As I drag Isaiah away to the dance floor, I am greeted with appreciative nods from both sides. I raise my head, indicating that a Pogue could play.

Isaiah and I dance in sync to the music, allowing the beat to move us. I was half there, half not there, but I was sober enough for tonight.

I let myself relax to the music, letting go and being present in the moment. This was something I missed.

I let Isaiah hold me while I wrapped my arms around his neck. His green eyes lock on me with such intensity that I lose track of where we are. His green eyes drew me in with their radiance in the lights.

The heat between us drove us to intensify it even further, so I turned around and danced. The molds fitting together. Our mold.

The mold that shattered me, fixed me, and then shattered me again. The sensation of being connected. I turned around, unsure of what I was thinking. His green eyes immediately drew me back in.

As a shade of dark green flew through his eyes, I pinched myself to keep from falling into the ocean of green once again.

A sea of green. The color of the ocean is blue. But it was the sea of green that drew me in.

I was so focused, my mind so focused on what I could lose forever. A sense of loss that lasts forever.

A side of myself that I thought had vanished or that I had never really confronted began to knock on my door, pleading with me to open up before it was too late.

I have no recollection of this sensation. What is this sensation? Why do I feel like I've felt this before?

I'm having trouble putting the puzzle together. I also don't feel compelled to. There's no point in piecing together something that was locked up in the back of my mind, trying to come in and tell me something if I don't know what it is.

Isaiah led me upstairs, his green eyes waiting for approval as I squeezed his hand in assurance.

Something about those green eyes made me feel safe. I'm stumped. Something about the gentle flow of the green.

He's sitting on the bed, allowing me to tower over him. I lean in and gently kiss him.

As he moves his hands to cup my face, I gently push him back. I tower over him, my elbows resting on either side of him as his thumb gently caresses my cheeks.

The thought of losing this moment began to pound my head, causing me to kiss him even harder, not wanting this moment to end. But why is this so?

Because of how gentle he was, I was able to relax under his touch. I don't think I've ever felt so secure.

I was trying to remember where I had felt this sense of security before, wanting to delve deeper and keep this sense of security forever.

I was irritated because my mind was racing trying to figure out what it was. I couldn't let it go, so I blocked out my thoughts and decided to live in the moment. Maybe my mind was trying to convince me that I once had something similar to this. Maybe my mind was finally on my side, luring me into the security I needed.

Isaiah towered over me after a quick flip. His hand was gently caressing my thigh. His gentle touch melted me.

He drew me in with his gentleness. I was engrossed in a trance. And I can't believe I succumbed to a Kook yet again.

I led him, but I wanted him to lead me as well. I wanted him to take command and transport me away from reality.

We exhaled, trying to catch our breath. Our gazes are locked, and the intimacy is palpable.

I was trying to find something in his eyes. But I couldn't seem to find it.

His fingers caressed my thighs in a circular motion, jolting me out of the trance his eyes had put me in.

He kisses my neck gently, causing me to tug at his roots. I ran my hand through his soft hair, tugging on it with each kiss that sent electricity through me.

Isaiah was a character. I met him tonight, but it felt like I'd never met anyone like him before. He was rare. He wasn't the stereotypical Alpha egotistic Kook who desired more; instead, he desired less in a way that captivated me. He desired to be normal. He didn't belong. And I fucking loved it. He tried to fit in, but I could tell he didn't want to. He was on the lookout for a breakthrough.

While we waited for the other Kooks to make their move in the Poker game, Isaiah and I discussed the social hierarchy that was built to fit the world's ideals.

I saw him express his emotions so freely that he appeared relieved as he spoke about it. He felt relieved that he could finally express himself. Despite the fact that he was surrounded by his friends.

It is difficult to take a stand due to peer pressure. You want to fit in, to fit into the mold that everyone else is trying to fit into.

When I first arrived here, I tried hard to fit in. I tried to make people like me by pleasing them. Everything I've done has caused me regret. I regret making a statement that wasn't meant to be made. I only want to say that I love myself for who I am. I am proud of who I am because I was born to be Kiara Carrera.

As cliche as it may sound, you must accept it. Accept who you are; otherwise, you will go down a long road of attempting to present the world with a character who isn't real.

When I met Isaiah, I noticed the clocks starting to turn the right way. A flash of insight struck him, jolting him back to reality.

It provided me with hope. I could see hope in his eyes. It catapulted me into a vast realm of unending redemption, which I witnessed. I witnessed redemption. Redemption that had to be exercised in a way that anyone could and would be able to access.

Only, if you gave a second chance.

That feeling drew me in, that knock in my head, trying to get
me to open the door, becoming louder.

Isaiah gently wraps his hand around my neck, passionately kissing me.

His grip tightening slightly, taking charge, making me feel secure in an odd way. My hands were hidden beneath his shirt, gripping him above his hips.

Caressing his soft skin and bringing it to his torso. As he tightens his grip on my neck, I intensify the kiss.

"Green eyes. Is that what you're going for?", Isaiah says into the kiss. I smile into the kiss in response.

He pulls away again, catching his breath as his green eyes turn a darker shade of green. A jolt of electricity runs through my body as he returns his grip on my neck and kisses me.

The electricity coursing through my veins, the smell of alcohol on both of our lips, drew us into a world where we were the only two. A world in which we had forgotten who we were in that moment.

I was lost in the moment, electricity and fire coursing through my body up to my lips, and I opened the door because the pounding in my head was too loud for me to bear, louder than my mind being in a different world, as a result of my intoxication. His grip on my neck, transporting me to the past of a two-way connection. So I opened to find out and I

"Rafe." I breathed out unexpectedly.

~

Rafe's POV:

My phone's alarm goes off while I'm kissing the curly-haired girl on the bed. I reach over and look at the alarm's label as it read: 'Byron's @ 12'

"Don't go, baby," the curly-haired girl pouted. As I was jolted back to reality of who I was kissing, I kissed her on the lips to silence her. I put on my shirt and walked to the door.

I put the phone to my ear as I hear Brian on the other end yelling at me to get my ass over to Byron's.

"I'll be there, I'll be there. Don't worry. I got the money." I reassure Brian in order to calm him down. When he loses his shit, he irritates me.

Brian continues to scold me over the phone as I walk down the stairs. I hear someone call my name as I walk past a bedroom, but my attention is quickly drawn back to Brian's yelling.

"Shut the fuck up, old man. Give me 10 minutes and I'll be there", I tell Brian on the phone.

"Listen up, you little bastard, one more time and you're out of the lineup," Brian snarls.

I make it downstairs and see Topper and Kelce at the bar. I walk over to Kelce and smack his head playfully. "I haven't seen your ass in a long time," I tell Kelce.

"Rafe, I have a reputation to uphold. Isaiah is beating me out here." Kelce admits.

I scoff a little, "Yeah, good luck with that. Right now, the asshole is probably doubling the score with two."

"Nah, he only has one tonight. I saw him go up and into a room earlier." Looking at me, Kelce says. Topper is unusually quiet.

My phone starts to ring, so I say good-bye and walk to my car.

~

"Look who decided to show up," Brian says, mockingly clapping.

I nod and wait to see what he has in store for me tonight. "Wait in the room, O'connor will be there in a few minutes," Brian says, motioning to the locker room.

I enter the room and place my bag on the floor. I take out boxing gloves for O'connor and prepare the weights for him.

I kill time by punching the punching bag for a few minutes. I was still buzzed from the party and took an Advil to help with the headache.

A knock on the door jolts me out of my session, and I turn to see O'connor leaning against the door. "Rafe, it's been a while. I'm glad you're in my corner instead of Brian tonight " O'connor says, as we dap up and bro hug.

"Always, dude. Who are you going up against tonight? ", I ask him as he walks over to the punching bag.

"Blood-shot," O'connor responds as he repeatedly hits the bag.

I exhale slightly, the headache dissipating.

For the next 30 minutes, I spar with O'connor, getting him ready for his fight.

I've always been a boxer. That was the one thing I learned from my father. When I was in Middle School, my dad and I would stay up late every night to watch the UFC. Boxing has now faded into obscurity.

My pain was channeled through boxing. It was a good thing at times, but never let it get the best of you.

"Alright fellas, we're up," Brian says as he enters the room. Brian says this while massaging O'connor's shoulders and pumping him up.

We walk towards the tunnel, lights starting to shine as I walk alongside O'Connor on the path to the ring.

As O'Connor enters the ring, the lights return to normal. The announcer and ref approach O'Connor and me, placing a thermometer-like device on his head.

It begins to beat incessantly "You're on drugs, son. You are unable to fight tonight ", the referee says, surprising both O'Connor and me. I assumed he was clean, but he wasn't.

As O'Connor steps out of the ring, the ref turns to me and hands me the gloves.

"What the fuck? I haven't had enough training time", I admit, because I wasn't prepared.

The referee chuckles "That's a good one, son. Charleston called today, and you have a resume that is suited, 10k on the line. Take it or leave it", the referee says as he walks around to the other side.

I have no choice but to give in. I needed the 10K because I had a deadline with Hart.

Brian hands me my mouth guard while wrapping the gloves around my hands. As Blood-shot approaches, the lights dim.

I get a good look at my opponent. He was a little smaller than me, lean but not skinny. Only a few strands of his hair could be seen through the holes in his mask, which covered his face.

The rule for new faces is that you cannot wear a mask. They wanted to welcome you, not really, by making you feel intimidated because you were the only one in the ring who couldn't mask your emotions with a mask.

I dab up the opponent, watching his eyes turn a dark shade.

Kiara's POV:

I didn't have a choice; I couldn't back out. Tonight's payment was more than double what I had ever received, and I desperately needed it.

I was holding back my rage because I didn't want my emotions to get the best of me. Rafe Cameron, shirtless and shadowboxing, stood in front of me. I was terrified by his physique.

In my stress, I adjusted my grey shirt on me.

I had no idea he was into boxing. But here he was, holding the title of Charleston's best boxer. I clenched my fists in rage, ready to beat the shit out of him.

I had an hour to get ready, so I said my goodbyes to Isaiah and headed to Byron's. The referee informed me that I would be fighting O'Connor. He was a no-brainer. I was this close to getting Hart's money, and now I'm fucked.

I use my rage to shadow box, dancing to the beat of each punch. My chest heaved up and down. I kept getting distracted by the jackass on the other side. I'm watching him shadow box with moves I've never seen before.

I hit my head trying to get him out of my head. I discussed my options with my new trainer, hoping to come up with something to beat Rafe.

As I smack my gloves together, the lights begin to dim. I'm picturing the douchebag's face colliding with my gloves.

murderers don't win.

The bell rang, indicating that it was on. We circle each other as I try to block out everything else and concentrate on him.

"Don't even bother. It isn't worth it "Rafe says, attempting to divert my attention. I don't respond and remain silent. Normally, I would try to taunt my opponent, but that isn't going to work right now.

Rafe catches me off guard with a right jab to the face, causing me to take a step back.

It was hard, but not enough to knock me out. I've taken so many punches to the face that I'm used to it.

Rafe hops from foot to foot, mocking me with his ease.

I hit him with a double punch, only for him to dodge.

I started losing patience because I was so fucking tired. I'd had enough of trying. But I couldn't give up. I had no choice but to get this money, even if it meant going to the hospital tonight.

The second round began because the first round's goal was to get into the zone.

My trainer advised me to take advantage of my speed by using double hooks across the head.

Rafe's POV:

The kid was confident, but lacked the stamina to outlast me.

What struck me was his refusal to give up. My opponents would usually cave and let me win.

I took a step forward and landed a right jab to his face as I watched him back up into the ropes.

He charges back at me, shocking me with his speed and a left jab to my cheek. I mock him by shaking my head, hoping to intimidate him.

He gets closer to me and tries to hit me with a left hook, which I quickly dodge and follow up with a hard punch to the gut.

He falls to the ground and clutches his stomach, but he slowly rises before the referee begins the countdown.

I take advantage of the situation by deflecting his punch and punching him repeatedly. As I continue to beat the shit out of him, he raises his gloves in an attempt to block my punches.

He takes a quick step to the side, causing me to fall forward but regaining my balance in time for the jab on my left cheek.

This irritates me, so I start punching him on the side, causing him to repeatedly throw punches at my face.

I try to block the punches that are coming at me at a breakneck pace. I strike him again with a double hook and bear hug him to keep him from punching me.

I must have struck a nerve because he squirms out of my grasp in an instant, taking advantage of the opportunity to punch me in the gut.

I deflect every punch like in Karate taking the burn of each punch to my wrists.

I take advantage of the situation and hit him with a new technique, causing him to deflect it for a split second, but he wasn't prepared for the final punch to the cheek.

I stand there watching as my opponent collapses to the ground and his trainers rush to his aid. As O'Connor comes under the rope and hugs me, I raise my hands in triumph.

Kiara's POV:

I was on the ground, slightly inebriated but in excruciating pain. To help me get through this fight, I took a pain reliever and drank a lot of strong alcohol before it.

His punches were excruciatingly painful, but I was fortunate to have avoided his harder punches.

I sit up in agony as I watch him triumphantly hug his trainers.

Rafe Cameron won again.

I wanted to leave the scene because I was out of breath. I was completely out of it and all I wanted to do was go to my locker room. I didn't have time to congratulate a prick.

My trainer hoisted me into a wheelchair as my lip began to bleed uncontrollably. As I attempted to sit comfortably, the pain in my body increased.

"That Tequila is a lifesaver. Otherwise, you'd be knocked out right now ", my trainer says, trying to lighten the mood.

He was correct; if I hadn't consumed it, I wouldn't have been as alert. As a result of the Advil, the punches weren't as painful.

~

I've been in the care of the medic for three hours. I was numb from the strong ass pain relievers I was taking.

I was moved to one of the locker rooms 10 minutes ago because the medic was closer to the one I am currently in.

I walked over to the sink and immersed my face in cool water, allowing the cool water to relax me. As I heated the water, I repositioned the ice pack that had been taped to my stomach and placed it on my eye.

I sigh as I place my weight on both sides of the sink, my gaze fixed on my reflection in the mirror.

I stare at myself in the mirror, too tired to think about anything. I just wanted to get back home.

Back to the Chateau because it was the weekend, which meant I would have the Chateau to myself for a couple of days to heal.

My parents believe I am currently enrolled in dual enrollment in Charleston and will return on Tuesday.

As I approach the bathroom, the door opens to reveal Rafe on the phone, who is wrapped in a towel.

The world comes to a halt, and his phone falls to the floor, cracking.

Rafe Cameron stood in front of me, his face so distraught that I didn't recognize him.

His mouth is open, his eyes are wide with shock, and a breath escapes from his mouth.

"K-kie?" Rafe barely whispers, my name caught in his throat and coming out as a croak.

I SURVIVED THE SAT AKDJSKSKSKWKS Also wow I CANNOT believe it's January like how 😳 how are you guys doing? CHAPTER 12222222222222 hope you guys enjoyed this chapter :))

Team Q-tip or Isaiah?